Writing Metaphors

At the beginning of every semester that I taught, I would have my students do an exercise where they came up with a metaphor for writing. I always did the activity with them, and came up with new metaphors every time, usually reflecting the current state of my masters thesis. I liked them, and want to keep them, so here they are:

1. Sep. 5, 2008

Writing is like jumping into a pool of water belly first and then realizing you can't swim. As you sink to the bottom, overwhelmed with your own stupidity for thinking this was a good idea, you suddenly remember a stroke you learned from your swimming lessons and the community rec center when you were six years old and your mother had to force you to jump in the pool because you were worried you wouldn't make any friends. You recall these friends and the swimming you did together and begin to struggle upwards, finally reaching the surface, and then discover what it is like to breathe, as if for the first time.

2. I don't have a date, but it was probably Jan. 5, 2009

For me, writing is like standing in stagnant, warm water--mud between my toes. I want to move, want to write, but the water is too warm, the mud too squishy, and I stand still, not writing, not moving. I can hear a tidal wave coming, can feel the breeze as the water picks up speed, but for now, I am stuck, know that before the water reaches me, I will begin to run.

3. The next day, (after I began my thesis)

To me, writing is like a frightening dog you promised to watch. You try to run away from it, but you've sworn to take care of it--feed it, play with it, and despite your terror, your duty is clear. So slowly, hesitatingly, you step up to the dog, reach out your finger--and he licks you, tackles you--and you find it is not as hard to do your duty as you had feared it would be.

4. Today

Writing is like a great big elephant that someone gave you. You are pretty sure it would come in handy, could be eminently serviceable and useful, if only you could figure out what to do with it. You and the elephant stare at each other, eyes locked. Then you look away and the elephant meanders off, presumably to find someone who actually knows how to take care of it.

I'm not sure what this metaphor reflects.

The end.